


Invictus

by pcdolski



Category: Die Mannschaft, Football - Fandom, Schweinski - Fandom, Soccer - Fandom
Genre: F/M, Football, M/M, Schweinski, Soccer, bastian schweinsteiger - Freeform, die mannschaft - Freeform, lukas podolski - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-15
Updated: 2015-11-10
Packaged: 2018-03-30 17:06:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 19,148
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3944788
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pcdolski/pseuds/pcdolski
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It all starts with a false BILD article which brings Lukas Podolski and Bastian Schweinsteiger in a lot of trouble. But instead of collapsing under the pressure of the public they decide to provocate on purpose. Maybe it all doesn't really work out as planned though.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Pilot

**Author's Note:**

  * A translation of [Invictus](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/115615) by bootstrapbetty. 



> This is not my own work. I only translated it from German into English. I have the permission of the author to do so, don't worry. 
> 
> This is a very old fanfiction. Bastian's girlfriend was Dani and Lukas Podolski was still playing at FC Bayern München. It takes place around the year 2007.
> 
> Author's page: www.fanfiktion.de/u/bootstrapbetti (german)  
> Special thanks to lilaoboe for proof reading and correcting this chapter
> 
> -
> 
> *Bärchen= minimization of "bear" - cheesy German pet name   
> \- same with "Hasi"

Retrospectively you can indeed say that it’s Rense’s fault that all this happened. After all it’s him who throws the newspaper through the room and starts it all.

* * *

 

Bastian and Lukas are sitting in the empty Bayern changing room and are fighting for air - that’s how much they’re laughing. While looking for old shoes at home Lukas accidentally found an old love letter, which he never posted, but he found it just too funny to keep it from Basti. Bastian is glad that Lukas brought it with him; he hasn’t laughed like this in a long time. They’re at it for good five more minutes and just a look at the other causes them to break out into broad laughter again.

“Dude, there’s a real poet in you, who would have thought?”, Bastian says breathlessly and earns a punch directly into his stomach for that - which he has to laugh at even more.

From the corner of his eye he suddenly sees something flying towards him. He catches the folded newspaper not a moment to soon with one hand and takes the other from Lukas’ shoulder to hold it properly.

“Hey Rense, dude, what the fuck?”, says Lukas and looks up to the keeper who stands in the doorframe, grinning like a cock chafer. “I don’t read _Bild_.”

“Today you should make an exception”, says Rense and keeps grinning. “You’ll love it.”

Bastian looks at Mich then back at the newspaper then at Mich again. He knows pretty well how much Lukas hates to read articles about himself so he must have a good reason. Eventually he opens the newspaper and almost feels like on Christmas when you don’t know if you’re happy about the present or not.

The first thing he sees is a picture that somehow looks familiar to him; it’s him and Poldi and they’re holding hands after scoring a goal. Next to that a picture which shows them in a delirium of joy, embracing each other. The caption catches his eye. _Schweinski - Germany’s new dream couple_. Poldi chuckles next to him. “Prinz Peng: dead-aim in bed as well.”

Bastian stares at him. “Poldi, what the -”. Only then he realizes that Poldi just read the headline out loud. For a moment all he can do is stare at it; his brain needs a while to come to life again. “But they don’t think that -”

“You both are gay?” Rense interrupts him and with an almost simultaneous keen head movement they both look up to him. “I think that’s exactly what they do.” Rense still grins. Well, they probably look incredibly silly with their confused faces.

Poldi looks at the article more closely. “The hidden bliss of love”, he reads out loud. “The World Cup heroes Bastian Schweinsteiger (22) and Lukas Podolski (21) are a couple. Apparently since the World Cup last summer something has been looming between the two ladies-men. “Bastian has changed a lot lately; he only talks about Poldi.”, said a good friend of the two football stars who wants to remain anonymous. The girlfriends of them both apparently know about it and are protecting their men from the public. But now Bild has managed to uncover the truth. Our Prinz and his crush: Germany’s cutest couple. What Lothar Matthäus says about it: Page 2.” Schweini… they just snitched on us.” He grins.

“Well, now it’s out” Bastian sighs and shakes his head.

“Do I know your great friend who just spills secrets?” Poldi asks. He looks at his teammate in the door. “Rense?”

“Nah, it wasn’t me. I’m still shocked myself.” Rense winks at them. “So Basti, who did it?”

“I must have forgotten to introduce him to you”, Bastian says and grins. He lifts his arm as if he laid it around someone next to him. “May I introduce you? Sven, my invisible friend. You bloody traitor, you!” He punches the invisible Sven in his side.

For a moment there’s absolute silence in the dressing room, then Bastian feels how Lukas’ abs tense up and he knows pretty well that he is restraining laughter. And he doesn’t need more to full-throatedly burst out laughing again. Poldi starts immediately and they laugh and laugh and Poldi gestures with his index finger to himself and back to Basti, laughing even more and Basti knows exactly what he means. The idea is just too glorious. No one but _Bild_ comes up with bullshit like this.

Eventually though, Rense, who is still standing in the doorframe, looks at the clock. “Oh shit. Come on you love birds, we have to go. The coach is surely not going to wait for us.”

“You’re right.”, Lukas says and heaves himself from the bench. His toothy grin is still sticking on the corners of his mouth as he offers Bastian his hand. “Come on, Hasi. We should go.”

Bastian immediately takes vengeance for the Hasi. With the most serious face he manages to apply he takes Poldi’s hand and gets up as well. “With the greatest of pleasure, my Bärchen*.” He quickly dodges to the side to avoid another punch from Lukas in his stomach.

He gives a ringing laugh and interlaces his fingers with those of his friend. Affectionately handholding, they cover the distance on the pitch and Lukas can’t stop himself from walking a bit prancingly, at which Basti of course has to step up the game by excessively shaking his butt and bending his hand until Rense, who followed them, asks him grinningly if he broke his wrist.

Bastian kicks him anything but affectionately against the shin bone, grins and Lukas pipes “Good job, honey”, and Rense has to laugh again. He doesn’t even want to think about where this all will lead to in the end.

* * *

 

 

Cheerfully Basti closes the door behind him and throws the keys on the small dresser in a great arc where he always throws them on even though they actually have a hook for this purpose on the wall. Good thing Dani didn’t see that; she would only rant at him again.

Lukas and he didn’t give any autographs to the fans after the training today; instead they said goodbye to each other with kisses on the left and right and raised deafening screeching for that. Bastian had to squint his eyes to not look at Lukas on purpose so he didn’t explode with laughter. Thinking about it still makes him grin.

He steps out of the anteroom into the corridor which Dani had decorated with half naked men. At first he was indeed a bit offended by it but by now he got used to them and even gave them names. Directly under Lukas (named so because he’s the lankiest of them all) he drops his sports bag and dispatches it with an exact calculated kick directly in front of the bedroom door. If he’s lucky it will bother Dani so much that she will empty it out to not have it all over the floor.

He grins to himself and strolls towards the kitchen because it smells like this wonderful tomato sauce in the whole house and he guesses that Dani made spaghetti; he loves it so much. “Hmmm”, so he says as he puts his head through the ajar kitchen door. “That smells nice.”

Dani stays there with her back turned to him and doesn’t turn around. Instead she answers, “Bad for you.” Bastian closes the door behind him and lays his arms around her waist. After placing a kiss on her hair he says, “I personally think this is very lucky for me ‘cause I love spaghetti.”

“For _you_ there will be no dinner in this house today”, Dani says and with an enormous wham she chops the cucumber and salad into two. “Don’t you still need to empty out your sports bag anyway?”

 _Uh oh_. Basti’s inner warning siren runs at full speed. Dani is pissed. Shit. With lightning speed he scours his memory for misdeeds. Nothing. At least nothing which could give Dani a reason to be this angry at him. Well. Maybe. But because of _this_ she won’t be- He just tries it with the charming tour. “I’m sorry, honey.”, he says and burrows his nose in the hair on her neck. This always makes her laugh.

“Don’t be like this”, is all she says today though, cold like a glacier, and Bastian bites his lip. Shit. “I love you” he therefore says because that _always_ works.

And she indeed turns around and looks at him. But something is extremely wrong; she isn’t smiling at him but rather is fixing him with a serious look. _Shit, shit, shit_. Basti tries a beaming smile and wants to kiss her but she pushes him away. “You thought you could keep this secret from me forever, or what?”

“What?” Bastian is really baffled right now; all his guarantees for success failed and Dani has some problem he doesn’t understand and somehow he doesn’t even want to talk about it because he sees the tomato sauce bubbling in the pot and it smells so good and god dammit, he had training and wants to get provided for, just how it is meant to be.

Dani crosses her arms in front of her chest and surveys him reservedly from top to bottom. “Don’t think that I will cook for you anymore when you cheat on me this shamelessly.”

Aha, Bastian thinks and slowly gets it. He’s angry at himself that he fell for it. Dani always gets him with her little games and he usually doesn’t realize it until she laughingly flings her arms around his neck and makes him angry at himself again. But not today. Ha! Today he noticed it and he will play along. Let’s see how she will like it. “Pfff”, he therefore just says and wrinkles his nose slightly. “I’m sick of your muck anyway, who even can eat that? Recently I‘ve been living on love and air alone.”

For a moment Dani opens her mouth indignantly but then his eyes must give him away because she notices what’s up. “Oh, okay then”, she says and lifts her chin with unbelievably arrogance. “My _muck_ obviously isn’t good enough for Mister National-player. Good for you that you can provide for yourself elsewhere now. I, on the other hand, will eat now until there’s nothing left, all by myself. All the spaghetti, and all the sauce with the fresh tomatoes and the basil and the mozzarella, hmmmm, that smells so good already…” With that said she turns to her pots again and stirs the sauce and drains the Spaghetti.

Bastian pretty well knows that she’s grinning to herself right now, that she could play this game forever and that she will act out her threats without any problem if he doesn’t give in. Good thing no one of his teammates knows how much she leads him around by the nose. They would never again treat him with respect. Especially not Poldi, that little scumbag. So he sighs quietly and buries his face in her hair. “Okay, fine, I say it. You won. Like always. Woman, you drive me crazy.”

Dani laughs and Bastian thinks to himself that that give-up was worth because of that wonderful laugh alone. He grabs her hips and turns her around to finally give her a kiss.

When he is finished, she runs her fingers through his hair. “Under these circumstances I could stoop to give you the rest.” She dives the scoop into the sauce and pulls it out half-full again to show him how much he would get. Bastian laughs and kisses her once again to try to get her to yield a bit more which eventually works out.

While setting the table he asks, “So, you already know it, hm?”

Again she laughs and says, “If you actually thought that there’s only one person in Germany who _doesn’t_ know it, then you’re actually really naive.” After a short break she adds, “All of Germany takes part in my humiliation. To make yourself look this silly in public… one could think you’re Olli Kahn.”

Bastian has to laugh. “That was mean. Poor Olli.”

She just scoffs. “Very poor guy, seriously. I honestly do like Verena but what Olli did to his wife was really lousy. Well, at least he isn’t gay.”

“Oh, so that’s how it is. You would rather get dumped for another girl than for a guy.”

“Well, rather than for Lukas for sure.”

Bastian playfully threatens her with the spoon. “Don’t let him hear that or he will be very hurt and sad.” And as he sees the amused sparkle in her eyes he quickly adds, “No more comments please. Another kiss instead?”

With big eyes he looks at her and she smilingly shakes her head. “You weirdo.”

However, he still gets the kiss.


	2. In which shoes get thrown

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A big thank you to Juju (fcbastithomas12.tumblr.com) for proof reading and correcting this chapter!
> 
> *Blöd = dumb - a funny synonym for BILD

As he’s driving to training the next day Bastian puts on a pink cap for no particular reason, just as a gag. Lukas is going to die laughing. He runs down the few steps to the front door with a big grin on his lips.

He sees the first flash when the door isn’t even 10 centimeters open. He fears the worst and opens the door completely. A bunch of journalists crowd him and a flurry of camera flashes descend upon him.

“Bastian, what do you say about the rumours?”

“Are you glad to no longer have to keep your relationship secret?”

“Mister Schweinsteiger, how is your love life going to affect your life at the club?”

He gets showered with questions after questions and Bastian instinctively ducks his head. How the hell did they all find out his private address? He doesn’t even want to imagine what’s going on at Säbener Straße right now. He pushes himself through the crowd to his car with pursed lips and regrets that he didn’t put on sunglasses today.

Finally sitting in his car, with the noise blocked out he takes a deep breath. Well, this is not what he expected. Without thinking about it too much longer he starts the car and dashes away as fast as possible. He just wants to get out of here, away from the crowd, the photographers, the journalists.

With one eye on the road and while driving way too fast, he fishes for his phone and starts texting Dani. _Honey, be careful. Journalists everywhere. Put on your sunglasses. Kisses Basti_. That’s all he writes. Dani is a clever woman and he knows that he can count on her. He doesn’t need to tell her that she should not do any interviews and that she should drive away as fast as possible. She’s not dumb and can fend for herself. That’s one of many reasons why he loves her so much.

A bright red flash brings him back to reality. Oh damn, now he even got caught speeding. The traffic light must have been red. The coach won’t like hearing that at all. But damn, this really is an exceptional situation, hopefully he will turn a blind eye.

At the training ground he sees fans who arrived in huge flocks today; there’s so many people that the fence can barely hold them all back. Some drew posters, _gay or straight - you’re the best!_ and _We support you_. Basti involuntarily smiles as he sees the affection and support. He didn’t expect that in the intolerant, small minded, catholic Bayern.

He considers for a moment if he should maybe take the cap off but then he pulls himself together. He won’t give up that easily. He isn’t even gay so what’s with all this crap? No one forces a Schweinsteiger to his knees this easily. He takes one more deep breath and then he gets out of the car. Quickly pulling the bag out of the trunk,with one thumbs up and a smile to the fans he’s almost in the building already.

“Fucking faggot!” a man suddenly shouts. “We don’t want you to be here!” Bastian turns around in horror but he’s unable to make out the man in the crowd of fans. Determined, he turns around and takes the last few steps towards the door. He’s relieved only after he walks a few steps down the corridor and the noises from outside begin to fade into the background.

* * *

 

 

“Oh fuck, Schweini, I thought so.” is the first thing he hears as he enters the changing room. Poldi is sitting in front of his locker, with both legs stretched out as he looks at him. “Dude, the pink cap, you couldn’t have done it better.”

Bastian grins a bit abashedly. “Hello, darling.” He lets himself fall onto the bench in relief and tries to ignore the looks his teammates are giving him. Poldi grins back and purses his lips as if he wanted to give him a kiss but then the rest of the team became abnormally silent. Basti knows all too well why and it pisses him off. Now they can’t even behave normally around each other here? Did he suddenly became leprous just because the Blöd* invented a crazy story again?

“Hey guys, did you all become dumb overnight or what.” It’s not even a real question and Bastian looks at no one as he speaks, he just stares at the ground in front of him. Yet everyone feels addressed, he notices that because suddenly the changing room is deathly quiet.

“You’re all cool, right guys? or not? What’s with all this bullshit now, seriously gag me with a spoon."

“Honestly”, Poldi says, “since when do you all give a shit about what _Bild_ writes?”

It’s still silent until Roy eventually breaks the silence. “Is it true though?” he asks but he openly looks at Bastian and there’s nothing but honest interest in his eyes. But Basti is annoyed and he needs to let off some steam. “Would you have a problem with this?” he snaps back. “Would you be afraid to shower with me or with Poldi, or what? Is it this? I can’t believe this.” Unnerved, he yanks his shoes off his feet and flings them more than he _puts_ them on the floor.

“No”, Roy says and looks up to Bastian. “My brother is gay. I bet you all will read that in the newspaper tomorrow, with pictures and all that of him and his boyfriend. Just like every other gay man who is somehow connected to a football player. You bet. But I will continue to stoop for my soap if it’s that what you mean.”

“I couldn’t have said it better”, says Brazzo and grins his mischievous grin. “And I will slap your ugly butt even more now than before so that they have something to gossip about.”

Slowly the team begins to move again and they all - more or less - say that they wouldn’t have a problem with it if they were actually gay. Bastian calms down a bit again even though he’s not entirely sure how many of them are honest and how many are just faking it to simply not get into any trouble.

“Well, in this case I can confidently hang this up”, Rense says eventually and shares a quick grin with Andreas Ottl. He shows today’s cover page around. _The proof_ is the headline and under that is a photo spread of Bastian and Lukas leaving from the day before. _Kisses in public already_ is written under the picture and Rense grins as he attaches the paper to the wall.

“With this we have the proof”, he says. “Tolerant team of the league: FC Bayern. We have a heart for minorities. Even Dutchmen are welcome.”, Roy’s left shoe flies towards his direction and Rense ducks not a moment too soon, laughing, “and also Muslims, blacks and since we can’t have token women we just have token gays. A cheer for you!”

Everyone breaks into laughter and “Cheer!”-shouts get louder. Bastian and Poldi are grinning at each other across the room. They’re just both glad that their teammates are making it so easy for them. _And as a ‘thank you’_ , Bastian thinks to himself, _they deserve a little show_.

Without any ceremony he walks up to Poldi and presses a kiss on his mouth. When he is finished Poldi demonstratively wipes his mouth and beats him round the head with his jersey. Bastian laughs and returns the favour by announcing at the top of his voice that Lukas was _that_ needy that he would kiss anyone when Bastian wasn’t around.

Then he flees to the toilet as fast as he can because Poldi already jumps up with a loud scream of protest and follows him. Basti slams the door behind him and climbs on the toilet so that Lukas can’t maltreat his legs.

“Schweini, you chickenshit bastard, you”, Poldi shouts from the outside and Bastian has to laugh, finally, finally he is able to laugh again after he thought that the day could only end in disaster.

* * *

 

“Hey, Schweini.”

They fooled around in training too much again and at one point Hitzfeld got annoyed by their “flirtation” and sentenced them to do some punishment-push ups. So, while the others are practising free kicks they’re lying here and sweating. Up, clap, down. Bastian jealously glances over at Roque who curls a free kick past near the goal.

Hitzfeld knows exactly how much he, Bastian, loves practising free kicks. He clenches his teeth and stops looking. Up, clap, down. Poldi doesn’t seem to care about the whole situtation at all because he still fools around and constantly tries to start a conversation. “Hey, Schweini, listen dammit. Schweini, dude, are you listening? It’s important!”

“Poldi, seriously, stop it!” he pants between two push ups. Up, clap, down.

“Dude, I have a bloody marvellous idea!” Poldi pauses and grins over at him. Bastian knows this grin. It spells trouble. “I don’t even wanna know it.” Up, clap, down.

“Oh yes you do, honey.” Lukas grins even more and finally Bastian pauses the practice for a moment as well. “We already have enough trouble, do you want us to have to clean shoes at the end as well?” He shakes his head and continues with the push ups. Even though he’s not looking at him Bastian knows exactly how Lukas is reacting. He rolls his eyes excessively until they almost pop out, sighs so loud that the fans behind the barrier on the other side of the pitch probably hear him as well and continues with his push ups again. Isn’t it nice how predictable his best friend is sometimes?

However he didn’t predict Poldi’s next move - suddenly he sees his face directly in front of his own because Lukas stops doing his push ups next to him and instead does them directly in front of him, so close that their tips of their noses almost touch.

“So, dude, once again”, says Poldi and grins this ominous grin again. “I have a plan and if you don’t join in you’re a little sissy.”

“God, seriously, how old are you again?” Up, clap, down.

“You don’t have to call me _God_ , Poldi is enough.”

Bastian clenches his teeth. How often he had said this already himself and enjoyed Lukas’ annoyed face every time. What goes around, comes around. “You still sound like a kindergartener.”

“I don’t care, mister oh-so-grown-up. The idea is still awesome. And I’m gonna do it even without you knowing what’s up. Yep, that’s how it is. Wait for it. After our next goal they’ll have something to talk about. Bear that in mind!”

“Of course”, Bastian just says. Up, clap, down. Poldi and his dumb ideas. Sometimes he’s so enthusiastic, is on fire about something and then he forgets it within the next five minutes. Most of his “brilliant plans” drowned in nirvana like this anyway so Bastian doesn’t think about it anymore. Up, clap, down.

Hitzfeld shouts some orders and Poldi is finally quiet and Bastian asks himself what the newspapers might say again today and if he should actually think about it. Are there even any gay footballers in Germany? Basti doesn’t know anyone. But there must be someone, right? Up, clap, down.

It would be unbelievable if there were none. After all there are gays everywhere, even in politics and stuff. Basti shakes his head. He makes it sound like it’s some kind of epidemic.

He already hears the voice of the newsreader in his head - _and once again there is a new victim of the dangerous gay-virus while scientists still have not found an antidote._ Basti grins. Newest victim: Bastian Schweinsteiger. At least if you believe the _Bild_. And everyone pretty much knows how much of what this paper writes is actually true.


	3. In which Poldi gets woken ungently

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “We’re in Bayern, Basti”, Pepe says. “What do you expect?” His pitying voice belied his firm words.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you, themountainsechoed, for proof reading this shit :) It's also her fault if you find any more typos lol (I'm kidding)
> 
> -
> 
> *Baschdl - kind of a Bavarian dialect to say Basti  
> *Oberbayern - a tavern/restaurant  
> *Gevatter Death - a fairytale character  
> *Braunschweig-jokes - Braunschweig is a German city as well as a football club  
> *Schafkopf - a Bavarian card game  
> *Old one - a Schafkopf term (the Joseph)  
> *to grease - another Schafkopf term (to give the partner aces and tens)  
> *Kaiser - popular German way to call Franz Beckenbauer
> 
> \- 
> 
> Also: The Pepe in this fanfiction is /not/ the Pepe you might know from Bayern. It's not the keeper. As far as I know it's a fictional character.

Daniela is freshly showered and has her wet hair hidden under the towel-turban. Under her bathrobe she’s wearing only panties and is generally looking really sexy, Bastian thinks. Not that she wouldn’t be all the time. But especially from this perspective and most of all because he can see so much of her wonderful, endless legs.

Basti is lying on the soft rug in front of their couch which he brought home against Dani’s heavy protests. He loved to lie on the floor with his feet on the seating surface of the coach or - even better - in Dani’s lab while talking to her about anything and everything. It was exactly because of this reason that he insisted on buying this carpet because, no matter how ugly it might be, it was soft.

Guti, his little striped cat, sneaks over to him and lies on his tummy. Basti starts to stroke his back and Guti purrs quietly. Dani sits there and talks and gestures so intensely that her turban slips out of place and gets comically angry at her boss as Basti just lies there and listens to her and looks at her and she doesn’t even seem to notice how good she actually looks and in this moment Bastian is just really happy.

“You’re not even listening, aren’t ya?” Basti lets his head fall back on the carpet, closes his eyes and grins. “No.”

Dani kicks him on his side. “Terrible person, you.”

“I can’t help myself, that’s how I am”, Basti says. “Also, if you knew what I was thinking about you would understand me.”

“Hmm, let me think about it”, Dani says incredibly slowly and furrows her brow. “You always think about exactly two things: either football or sex. I’m ruling out football because you never smile this dumbly about it, so it can only be sex which you can get out of your head, you ungallant man.”

Basti props up on his elbows and looks at her in disgust. “How even can you think this badly of me? I can’t believe that, the own girlfriend…” He shakes his head and sighs.

“Well, then it can only be your new flame”, Dani concludes with impressive logic. “Poldi in undies, hm? Or maybe even without undies?”

Bastian gasps and stares at her. “Thanks, Dani, this picture was the last I needed. I’m definitely not in the mood for sex anymore…” He lets himself fall back on the carpet again.

“So I was right”, Dani says and grins triumphantly. “That could be because I’m always right, of course.” Before Basti can protest she continues, “But speaking of Poldi - you oughta see what havoc you caused in Germany with your stupid joke. I could tell you about how they’re eating you alive and how they’re pitying me and Moni. I’m not gonna do it though, because you don’t wanna hear it, but I could.”

Basti is about to respond something when his mobile rings. He feels his pockets but nothing’s there. It isn't somewhere on the rug either, at least nowhere he could reach with his hands. He’s just thinking whether to actually raise his head or if it’s not worth it when something hard, ringing hits his head. Guti hisses and jumps up after he got pulled out of his calmness, brutally. With a very angry look at Dani he trots away to his cat stand. Dani giggles amusedly. “You dork, you left it on the couch. Now answer the call.”

“I love you too”, Bastian grumbles before answering the call. “Schweinsteiger, hello?”

“Servus Baschdl*”, somebody says on the other end of the line and Basti grins.

“Tobi.”

“Correct. I’m home for a few days, so what’s the what? Tomorrow, half past seven?”

“Pepe, too?”

“And Mich.”

“In Oberbayern*?”

“Sounds good. See ya!”

“Servus.” Basti hangs up.

Dani stares at him for a moment. “That’s all?” she says, slightly unbelieving. “I think you just broke your record of seven seconds.” Basti throws the mobile back at her without looking but she squeaks and he grins. At least he hit her _a little bit_. “Well”, he says, “we’re brothers, what do you expect? We understand each other without words as well.” He feels Dani’s sceptical look even though he has his eyes still closed.

“On the phone.” The sound of her voice even more sceptical than he imagined her look to be.

“Of course on the phone, too. You don’t understand that, you’re a woman, you wouldn’t even be able to communicate without words if your dialogue partner was deaf-mute.” He pauses for a moment to close for the kill. “I bet you wouldn’t even be able to communicate without words if you were deaf-mute yourself.” He laughs about his own joke and Dani sighs and says, “Do you realize that you’re the only one again laughing at your joke? Because it wasn’t funny.” and Bastian doesn’t care, he just continues laughing until Dani closes his mouth with a long kiss.

By the time Bastian is out of breath, Dani breaks the kiss, which is too bad because his hands were just wandering down her thighs so wonderfully under her bathrobe, and now he has to take a break. “What was that again with ‘wordless communication’?” Dani says against his mouth and he feels the grin. Then she slaps his hands away. “And like I already said, you can forget the sex since you were such a douchebag again. Unless of course you buckle down.”

 _Nothing easier than that_ , Bastian thinks and the next moment his hands are wandering down again, and his teeth are nibbling at her earlobe, and suddenly Dani doesn’t seem to have any more objections.

* * *

 

The air that confronts Bastian in Oberbayern is sticky, smoky and smells like pork roast and beer. After all this restaurant is infamous for the possibility to eat pork roast from 6AM, quasi as breakfast, lunch and in the evening as well, until you get sick from it in your stomach. He enters with a smile.

In some way this smell means home to him, reminds him of countless sundays, with the family in the tavern, hide and seek with Tobi between the tables, secret nipping from the wheat beer of the father. The dark paneled walls in the tavern of Oberbayern are decorated with pictures of Ludwig II, Bavarian flags and pictures of the local football club in between. It’s really quaint here, only a little light falls through the bullseye glass windows and the distinctive, sweetish smell of pipe smoke has soaked all the furnishings from long ago.

He seems to be the first one today, no one is sitting on their crackerbarrel yet. Bastian travels through the restaurant and takes off his jacket while doing so. _Something is different today_ , he thinks, and almost at the same time he notices how everyone is staring at him. It got oddly quiet in the room, and the sudden silence even lets the last uninterested people look up.

It’s not because he is who he is. The people here already know him for long, they’re used to know a national player among themselves. No, Bastian gets creeped up by the dull feeling that there is a simple reason for the silence, it has four letters and writes rubbish. Bastian has never experienced real enmity, he has always been a friendly person, having a game for everything, not really ever subject to feelings like hate or constant anger. Suddenly he gets an idea of what it must feel like to be hated. _So, this is how it is_.

Until now everything went too well anyways, he should have known it. He should have been prepared, had guessed that the fans who proclaimed their support are the exception. But he was in denial; didn’t want to believe that people could actually be this interested in whom he’s in love with. Or not. But no one here seems to believe the fact that he isn’t even actually gay.

Bastian is standing in the middle of the room, the jacket still in his hand. He is aware of how bizarre the scene is, like a movie which you suddenly paused. No one moves, it’s like no one dares to break the awkward silence. The comfortable atmosphere from seconds ago has transformed into a freezing cold, a hostile resentment and it is directed at only Bastian. It was probably a pretty bad idea to come here.

For a moment Bastian thinks if he should just leave again, but immediately scraps the idea because that would mean giving up, running away, to confess something he doesn’t want to confess. And who gives up, loses. Oh no, he will stay.

His decision begins to unravel as a man suddenly spits on the floor and whispers to his neighbour, “Fucking faggot. And this plays football for Germany. Fucking embarrassing.” Bastian feels as if the man screamed the words directly into his ear, this is how loud it resounds through the silence. Suddenly he wonders how much mail Dani already retained and threw away before he even could catch sight of it. He must have received countless of hate mails. When he comes home he will immediately call Poldi, he decides to do. No matter how late it is, Poldi will understand him.

At the very least, the snarky comment of the man prompts the guests to start moving again. Slowly they all turn to their own matters again and start to talk to each other. Basti is not sure if he wants to know what they’re saying right now.

Luckily the door opens again just then and his brother enters, followed by Pepe, their neighbour from childhood with whom they are both still friends. Bastian feels the load taken off his mind which he didn’t even notice until now. But still, now that they’re both here, allies, his heart feels lighter already. Even though he would never admit it - a few seconds ago he was pretty much on the verge of running away.

“Dear brother, why’re you standing here like a pillar of salt?” Tobi says as a greeting and lays an arm around his shoulders. With gentle encouragement, he guides Bastian to their table, and behind him he hears Pepe talking to the waitress. Bastian lets himself fall on his usual spot, on the bench directly under a picture which documents the ascent of the local football team to the eighth division. Tobi is sitting across from him, and to his left Pepe. Mich is still missing to his right, then their round is complete.

Emma, the waitress, comes to them with three wheat beers and smiles even though she somewhat skillfully avoids to look at Bastian directly. _So, she as well_ , Bastian notes frustratedly. “Three times as always”, she says and wants to leave already when Tobi clutches her apron. “Two double schnapps” he orders, “and fast”. Emma leaves and Bastian looks at his brother with a shake of his head.

“Forget it, I still have to drive. Caught speeding just recently.”

With one hand movement Tobi washes away his objection. “If you could see your face you would prescribe yourself one as well.”

Bastian wipes over his mouth with the hand. “Maybe you’re right. But you should have seen this. It was… weird.”

“We’re in Bayern, Basti”, Pepe says. “What do you expect?” His pitying voice belied his firm words. They all know that it’s no walk in the park for Basti right now. Pepe’s brother Michael, lovingly called Mich by them all, reaches the table at the same time as the double schnapps. Emma and he share a look and she nods and leaves again. They have all come here for so long that Emma doesn’t need to ask anymore what they want to drink or eat. Wheat beer for the Schweinsteigers and Pepe, for Michael a crystal wheat.

“What’s up, guys?” Michael says and tousles Basti’s hair.

As an answer Tobias and Bastian simultaneously take their shot glasses and dash down the alcohol with one gulp. Michael looks at Pepe confusedly, at which he furtively points at Basti, then does a hand movement which includes the whole restaurant, then travels with his index finger over his throat as if he would cut it open. “That’s exactly how it is, Pepe”, Basti says. “You don’t need to blush, you’re right. Servus, Mich.” He offers his friend the hand and he claps it. “I’ve heard you won your last tennis match”, he then says quickly to distract from himself. He just doesn’t like to be centre of attention. “Congrats.”

Mich grins half heartedly. “Thanks”, he says. “But I’m sorry I really have to chase it up now… was it really that bad? You look like Gevatter Death* in person.”

Basti surveys him for a moment. “Worse”, he then just says and takes a sip from his wheat. “Pepe is indeed right, we’re in Bayern, I shouldn’t have expected differently. Still odd.”

“And the fans? I mean the newspapers say much but I never actually believe it.” Mich pulls a face which could be a grin as well as a grimace. It looks pretty funny but Basti just doesn’t feel like laughing.

So he just says, “Many are really cool. Especially the girls. Create posters and everything, like, we support you if you’re gay or not.” He shrugs slightly. “But there’re also many who’re just dumb. Whistling and such. But, seriously… when they don’t like me they can go and jump in the lake. I don’t need them. And when it gets too extreme I’ll move to a dutch club. Aren’t they more tolerant or something like that? Then they’ll see what comes of it.”

After this statement there’s a moment of silence, then Tobi raises his glass. “Let’s drink to that, Basti. And to you.” In implicit agreement everyone raises and clinks their glasses.

Pepe wipes the foam from his upper lip and Mich says, “You really got me down now. On my way to you I thought about some nice Braunschweig-jokes* and now I can’t think of a single one anymore.”

Tobi slaps him on the shoulder. “Better that way.” Basti grins slightly. They always rag each other. Even Pepe, who’s a car mechanic and doesn’t give a toss about football, and Mich, who has the most boring desk job in the world, can dish out properly and needs to take it as well.

Before the mutual teasing starts again Pepe grasps behind himself and produces a pack of cards and four flat plastic bowls. “A round of Schafkopf*?” Everyone nods and Pepe starts to shuffle and deals out the cards. After that they keep quiet besides an occasional “You have ‘n old one*, Basti?” or a “Just grease*, Pepe, jerk!”

Playing cards is a deeply enjoyable thing to do when you want to suppress thoughts because you need to concentrate on the game completely in order to not lose too much money and to not surrender. Bastian is glad that their circle of four is working so well and nonverbally. They actually barely talk about really controversial topics, and yet he has a soothing feeling now, namely that, that he found three more allies who have his back and who will support him no matter what.

* * *

 

Almost simultaneously with starting the car Basti dials Lukas’ number and is once more glad about the speakerphone of his car. The evening turned out to be surprisingly nice when you think about how it started. Bastian never thought that it could be this calming to play Schafkopf, to drink one, two wheats and to goof around with your friends. He never noticed before how quickly he can leave everything behind, all the worries and problems, when he’s together with the right people. _So, the Kaiser* was right again_ , Bastian thinks and smirks. _No one can get good friends apart._

He stops at a red traffic light and Lukas finally answers. “Hhngh?” he says, even though it is supposed to mean something different for sure.

“Hi Poldi, old sleepyhead.”

“Schwn?” Lukas still sounds like he isn’t fully awake. At least he doesn’t seem to have his mouth that much under control that he could create vocals as well.

“Exactly, it’s me. I need to talk to you.”

“Wht’s wrng? Time?”

“A few minutes past midnight. Listen, it’s about the article.” He hears a faint, muffled sound at the other end of the phone, Lukas probably let himself fall back onto his pillow.

“Gosh, Schweini. Tomorrow’s training. What’s so important?”

For a moment Bastian hesitates. It’s not really the nice way to wake up your best friends with a call at midnight to then even bend his ears. On the other hand, what reason are they friends for? Also, he wants Poldi to know. “I got a lot of verbal abuse today" he starts but Lukas immediately interrupts him.

“From whom?” he asks und suddenly sounds significantly more awake than a few moments before. Bastian smiles involuntarily. That’s what he likes about Lukas; he is always there for others and ready to defend them. And when someone insults his best friend then he even would drive to him in the middle of the night to smash that person’s face if it was necessary. In some way like a big brother even though he’s younger than Basti, and so absolutely loyal.

“Doesn’t matter, Poldi” he appeases quickly. “Just wanted to ask if you have been issued with the same and just didn’t say anything. Or if you received any gross hate mail.”

“Yeah, a few mails… but I immediately threw them away. Nothing else though.”

“That’s good.”

“Is everything alright?”

“Of course, Poldi, everything alright.”

“And that’s why you call me in the middle of the night. I can’t believe that, seriously, you’re crazy.” Lukas hangs up.

Despite the abrupt end Bastian knows exactly that he isn’t actually angry. Quite the opposite; he would have become angry if he would have heard about the story somewhat later and if Basti wouldn’t have told him directly about it. And it’s so unbelievably typical for Lukas that he firstly asks again if everything’s really okay before he starts to berate him.

Bastian turns up the music and continues to drive through the darkness, back home. He’s so thankful for Dani at the moment that she got rid of the mail and thus saved him from a lot of worries.

The sky looks like a sloppy drawn picture, crisscross streaked with white cloud stripes, in between dot-stars and a far too bright moon, and Bastian quietly whistles along the song on the radio and for a little moment he’s content with himself and the world. Technically it all isn’t that bad as long as you just have someone you can count on.


	4. In which Uli Hoeneß is an asshole

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Such players._ Bastian feels a little sting. So, that’s how it is. As soon as something gets public about a player that doesn’t fit into the picture of the uptight German public, there’s a gigantic scandal. Poldi and him suddenly aren’t the German exceptional talents anymore, enthusiastic, talented, committed. Instead they’re the abnormal misfits, whose talent and effort, considering their supposed sexual preferences, faded into the background in a matter of seconds. “Just say it.”, he now says with another little sigh. “We all know what this boils down to.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Special thanks to lilaoboe for proofreading and correcting this chapter! x 
> 
> Sorry for the super late update but I was quite busy the last few weeks, I'll try to work faster the next times :)  
> Enjoy and leave comments to unlock next chapter (this was a joke) (you can still leave comments though)

Getting up the next morning turns out to be quite difficult. It’s not just because of the alcohol from yesterday. But even more because of a feeling, some would call it fear, of what is waiting for him again today. 

How many people will stand on the Säbener Straße and whistle? How many will call him “faggot”, openly or behind his back? How long will it take the club to react? Bastian isn’t even completely awake yet but already wishes to be able to fall asleep again immediately. He slept badly this night, and even though he can’t remember what he dreamt of, there’s a bitter taste lingering in his mouth and a heavy feeling on his chest. 

Basti can’t bring himself to move his muscles -- not even when Dani pulls away the blanket. Except for maybe his vocal chords which he grumbles with because it suddenly got so cold. Maybe Dani will have a realization and cover him again when she sees how badly he shivers.

When even after minutes of coldness nothing happens, Basti finally turns to his side and pushes his slightly drenched pillow away from himself. Now he also gets why Dani didn’t have a realization; she’s long out of the room. That horrible woman! Of course he knows that she only did the right thing. But that doesn’t make this any more enjoyable. He slowly sits up and pulls his completely distorted sleeping shirt somewhat straight again and wheels his legs over the edge of the bed. Hoisting his boxers, he stands up and sleepwalks more than walks towards the bathroom, not without scratching himself extensively.

After a way too long but extremely pleasant shower, Bastian already feels more like a person again and shuffles to the kitchen. Dani is sitting on the small counter which separates the working area from the eating area, drinking coffee and reading the newspaper. From time to time she eats a spoon of her muesli. When she sees Basti she quickly slams down the newspaper and puts it away. Still, she can’t prevent Bastian catching a glimpse at the front page.

He sees a picture of Uli Hoeneß, and something about “consequences” in the title. That’s all his tired eyes can gather but it’s enough to ruin his mood completely. “Is there nothing more important happening in the world?” he asks discontentedly and presses a kiss on Dani’s cheek. “Wars, starvation, tax collections? And I always thought headlines like this only exist in summer. Did they move the silly season or what?” 

Dani, unlike her usual, doesn’t have a clever response on hand, but just shrugs slightly. Then she embraces Bastian and squeezes him firmly. She gently strokes him over the back. “We can do this together.”

Bastian takes a deep breath. “You’re right. At some point they will get tired. And then we will finally have our peace again.” He pushes her away a bit so that he can look into her eyes. “Thank you.” He means more than what he just said and they both know it. 

Dani smiles. “For you, always.” 

___

 

It’s unbelievable how much more difficult it gets for him each day to drive to training. Today he is prepared, having taken his MP3-Player with him so he can listen to music on high-volume instead of listening to the abusive calls from the people. He gets out of his car and pulls his bag out of the trunk, just like usual. With the only difference that loud music is blasting away at his ears, and not the shouts of the fans. Bastian knows that this isn’t fair towards the real fans, those who have his back and support him. But still, he can’t change it. If he wants to keep up the image he wants everyone to have of him, that of a confident, determined, young man, he has to do this. Otherwise he would collapse here and now. 

He goes up to a few girls who’re standing at the very front, wearing colourfully painted shirts. _We stand by you_ , is written on it, and _Make football, not war_. Bastian smiles. As they hold their papers and pens out to him, he signs it gladly. As the girls take their papers again, he suddenly gets an idea, and beckons one of them, so she gives him her paper once again.

She looks at him questioningly but Bastian doesn’t pay attention to her, instead he writes a short text under the unreadable scribble he passes off as his signature. _Girls, you’re awesome_ , he writes, _Thank you for your support. Fans like you make it easy to keep our heads up. Keep it up!_

He winks at them, and before they can read what he just wrote, he quickly goes away again. He’s somewhat embarrassed at what he just wrote, and yet it came out of his soul; he just had to write it down.

Soon after he’s changed clothes and talks to Lukas and Pizza, until the coach enters the pitch. Lukas and him haven’t talked about it yet, what all this will come to, with them, the newspapers. What will they do? Just ignore it and wait until everything’s over? Or fight back, attack? Either way, they need to talk about it.

Hitzfeld appears with fitness coach Leuthard, and a barely stifled groan spreads through the ranks. Every time Leuthard is there, training’s intense, and no one escapes unscathed; he seems to find weak spots in everyone, no matter how fit he is.

Bastian is about to get in line next to Lukas for warming up, when Hitzfeld, to Bastian’s surprise, beckons them over. He shares a look with Lukas, who looks as surprised as Bastian feels. What’s going on?

“Listen, you two.”, Ottmar says, as they arrived. “Uli just told me you should pay him a visit. I don’t know what he wants. And don’t make that face.”, he adds as he sees their faces, “At least you’re escaping Werner’s drudgery.” 

Both nod and slowly start their way to the manager’s office. “I have a sense of foreboding.”, Poldi says dully, and Bastian nods. They say nothing more on their way back into the building. Both predict that this visit won’t be nice. Both predict what Hoeneß wants to tell them, and both refuse to believe it. 

As they arrive at Hoeneß’ door, they share a last look. Poldi silently squeezes Bastian’s hand, then he knocks. “Come in!”. They enter.

“Ah, hello, you two. Sit down. Coffee?” They refuse and sit down on the comfortable leather armchairs in the corner of the office, to which Hoeneß has pointed. 

Uli Hoeneß leans back in his own armchair and surveys the two young players in front of him for a moment. Bastian feels like he’s under a magnifying glass, and he doesn’t like it at all. Through the tall windows on the other side of the room he can still see a bit of the green from the pitch, and suddenly he’s jealous of the others who’re suffering through Werner’s training right now. How badly he’d like to swap places with one of them now. 

No one has said a word yet. Bastian’s staring at the mightily ugly picture which is hanging on the wall above Hoeneß’ armchair, just so he doesn’t have to look at the man in front of him. 

Finally the manager clears his throat. “All right, then. Let’s begin. Listen... first of all, I want you to know that this isn’t easy for me at all. If it were up to me, we wouldn’t be having this conversation right now. But club management stays club management, and when the top level makes decisions I can’t do anything about it.”

 _Blah, blah, blah,_ Bastian thinks. Does he really think they don’t know that he could block decisions if he really wanted? After all he’s the bloody _sports director_. But of course Hoeneß doesn’t want to reveal himself as the culprit, but only as deliverer of the bad news. And by now it’s crystal clear to Bastian that it is bad news.  
  
“Well, boys. The thing is… You’ve surely noticed what kind of… fuss you two have caused in the German media scene in the last days.”

“Yeah, ‘cause everyone thinks we’re gay.”, Poldi says bitterly and Bastian sighs quietly. It just fucks him off. It seems like there is no other topic in Germany anymore. 

“Uhm, yes. Exactly. And the thing is that the club management made a decision which affects both of you. We can’t afford to attract that much negative publicity at the moment. And the things we are getting at the moment are more than just negative. I don’t know if you’re really aware of what’s happening here, but it’s definitely not funny anymore. I can imagine that this all must look kind of ludicrous to you, but it isn’t. The press, national as well as international, is eating us alive: Can we imagine what we did to the German popular sport, how can we let such players still perform on national and international level.” 

_Such players._ Bastian feels a little sting. So, that’s how it is. As soon as something gets public about a player that doesn’t fit into the picture of the uptight German public, there’s a gigantic scandal. Poldi and him suddenly aren’t the German exceptional talents anymore, enthusiastic, talented, committed. Instead they’re the abnormal misfits, whose talent and effort, considering their supposed sexual preferences, faded into the background in a matter of seconds. “Just say it.”, he now says with another little sigh. “We all know what this boils down to.” 

Hoeneß looks at him for a moment. “Okay, then, Bastian. The club management decided that the two of you just aren’t affordable for the club at the moment. That, of course, doesn’t mean that we don’t want to keep up your contracts. We - well, I mean, the club management decided, that we’re suspending you, for the next few weeks. Maybe months. Until it’s all water under the bridge.” 

“Oh, is that so?”, Poldi says, and Bastian is surprised by the sharpness in his voice. He’s never experienced Lukas, the everlasting sunny boy, the sunshine with the seemingly undestroyable smile, this bitter. “We’ve became an eyesore for the club. That’s how it is, eh? Bild claims we’re gay and _poof!_ Suddenly our life changes. It doesn’t matter anymore if we’re playing well, if the team needs us, nothing matters anymore but the bloody press! And now you wanna hide us away so the people quickly forget what a faux pas we are for Bayern. Alright.” Poldi punches the armrest with his clenched hand and sinks into pondering silence. 

Bastian is grateful to Lukas for putting his thoughts into words perfectly. 

Uli Hoeneß looks at him silently and knits his brows slightly. “You’re taking this the wrong way”, he eventually says. Bastian tries to find signs of empathy in his face, of sympathy or at least understanding. But nothing’s there; his eyes are empty, his facial expressions honed, perfectly arranged, always the confident manager of the most successful German football club. “It’s nothing against you personally”, Hoeneß continues, “You mustn’t take this to heart. We simply have to take care of the club’s image, I’m sure you understand that. We can’t afford to lose fans, which we’d do undoubtedly, if we’d let you-” 

Bastian has enough. He has enough of these dumb excuses. “Although we all live under the same sky”, he says, his voice cold as ice. “We obviously don’t all have the same horizon.” With that said he stands up and leaves the room, without turning around once. 

He can’t think about what he’s doing right now and about the possible consequences. He just has to leave, thinks he’s going to choke if he has to breathe in the air conditioner-cold air of the office for a second longer, any longer looking into the deadpan face of the manager, any longer listening to his lies. It takes him a lot of strength to close the door behind him silently, but he does it. He doesn’t want to leave like a pubescent idiot. He just wants to be far away. 

He storms along the hallways at a quick pace, past the pictures of the Bayern team which won the Meisterschaft, the DFB-Pokal, the Champions League. How many of them might have been gay? How many of them had to suppress their true self to be able to live a semi-normal life? 

He’s sorry for them, he’s sorry for those players, who’re gay nowadays and who can’t act it openly, who’re not allowed to act it openly. Because otherwise they would experience exactly what Poldi and he are experiencing right now. Booed by the fans, kicked out by the club, confused, insecure, alone. 

He’s almost at the lift when he hears someone calling for him. 

“Bastian! Wait.” 

Bastian turns around. 

It’s Poldi. Bastian can’t think of the last time he called him ‘Bastian’, not ‘Schweini’ or ‘Basti’. And somehow it’s exactly this little detail that makes him wait for a moment until Poldi reaches him, and then clasp him in his arms tightly. 

They stay like this, holding onto each other, giving each other security, Bastian doesn’t know for how long. He doesn’t care, and he also doesn’t care if someone sees them like this. They can think what they want. They already do that anyways. What do they have left, what can they destroy? All that’s missing now is a call by Jogi. A sack from the national team is exactly what Bastian needs to ruin his day completely. 

“Scheiße”, Poldi mutters next to his ear, and Bastian pulls him even closer. “So that’s what I came here for this season, or what? Scheiße, Schweini. Shit. Mega shit.” 

“Super mega shit.”, Bastian agrees. “A gigantic dump of steaming and stinking shit.” 

“Gosh, Basti, that’s really not funny.”, Lukas says with a laugh that sounds more like a sob. 

“I know.”, Bastian says. “I don’t find it funny either. But I gotta come to terms with this for now. Kicked us out.. just like that.” 

“Pfff. They didn’t even kick us out. That’s the thing. They _suspended_ us, Schweini. Suspended. For the next months.” Lukas sighs and Bastian feels his tightened muscles under his hand. 

“Come on, Poldi. Let’s go, somewhere.Change clothes and then outta here. _I_ won’t go to training today, that’s for sure.” 

“Nah.”, Poldi says. “Not at all.” 

Bastian wraps an arm around Lukas’ shoulders, and together they’re going to the lift, skirting around a cleaner who blocks their way with her trolley. They don’t want to let go off each other now, even though there’s actually no space for them. Somewhat they still manage to make it through; the woman insults them quietly in a language neither of them understand. 

This somewhat fits their current situation, Bastian thinks. Everyone rails against them, and they just don’t understand why, or what the actual problem is. 


	5. In which a porno (almost) gets shot

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Again he looks at his best friend and in his face he reads nothing but unconquerable will, and a strength, which he has never seen before at him. Bastian is amazed and ashamed about himself. Of course, Poldi is right. They won’t just give up like this now, they’ll hold their grounds. 
> 
> Who gives up, loses."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A thousand thanks to my crazy british wife [anjum](http://thousands-of-splendid-suns.tumblr.com) for proofreading this chapter
> 
> comments are, as always, appreciated, i read and love every single one  
> enjoy x
> 
> *Schnuckel = very cheesy german pet name

The next evening they’re arranging an intervention at Lukas’. Bastian and Dani, and Lukas and Moni. Only the four of them. Only those who’re actually affected by the so called ‘scandal’. Lukas ordered pizza and so they’re all quietly sitting on the small table in the living room, eating. 

Bastian privately asks himself, where all the funny evenings went that they’ve already experienced before, eating together, after that involved in endless conversations and discussions, laughing, ranting, but always with a positive, prevailing, mood. 

Today that’s different. When he looks at their faces like this, they’re all missing that certain radiance, which usually made them so special to him. He opens his pizza box again and begins to eat the olives and mushrooms that have fallen off. He’s already long finished with his pizza while Dani and Moni haven’t even managed half of theirs. Actually, he could eat one more, that’s how hungry he is, and without thinking about it much more, he leans towards Moni a bit who sits next to him, and catches a slice of her pizza. 

“Hey!” She looks at him surprisedly and flashes her eyes at him. “That’s my pizza, you should have ordered one more if you’re that hungry!” 

Bastian can’t really answer since he put half of the slice in his mouth at once. So he just says, “Don’t be like that, sweety," which more sounds like, “Hhn nnn mgn.” He grins, as far as that works with a full mouth, and winks at Moni. 

Before she can answer, something soft hits Bastian’s temple suddenly. Enraged, he turns around again and flashes his eyes at Lukas, who sits across from him. He grins and quickly flicks another piece of pineapple over to Bastian. This time he only hits the shirt though, and Bastian stares at his brand new shirt, now decorated with a wet spot. He is just about to rant, when he looks up once again and sees the dangerous flash in Lukas’ eyes which he has missed for way too long already. 

With a sudden urge he overcomes a desire to leave everything behind for a moment and to just fool around like they always used to. He tries to hide a smirk but it doesn’t work that properly. He looks up mischievously and throws a mushroom over to Poldi in the same moment, who is prepared of course and catches the projectile extremely casually with one hand out of the air. 

“Bad throw, Schweini, very weak. There you notice the age again, huh? Startin’ to lose your touch. Don’t sweat it, the time has to come either way.” Whilst he’s grinning with this inimitable grin again, and Bastian has jumped up in less than two seconds to throw himself onto Lukas. Now they’ll see who’s starting to lose touch. 

With one ear he hears a loud sigh from the direction of the two women, and from the corner of his eye he can see them standing up to search for a quieter place to eat. Unfortunately he can’t have consideration for this right now. 

Because now it’s time for the toughest wrestling, full concentration on the fight. Basti grabs Lukas’ arms and pins him down, but a strong kick against his shin leads him to gasp and he lets go off. Lukas barely has time for a triumphant “Ha!”, before Bastian has him in a headlock again. Lukas kicks out, but this time Bastian is more careful and takes care of Lukas not being able to hit him. 

“What’s up, loser?”, he whispers into his ear, but this tiny little moment of not keeping Poldi down with full strength, is enough for him to free himself mostly and to bite Bastian in his upper arm at full tilt. 

Bastian lets go off immediately. “Ah!”

Lukas laughs cockily and throws himself onto Bastian, so that he lies on the floor, barely able to move anymore. Lukas is flipping heavy, Basti notices, especially when he lies onto his stomach like this. But he won’t admit this of course.

Instead he tries to free his hand to hit Poldi with it. At some point he also manages to do this, but he couldn’t get enough dash to seriously hit his friend. 

“You’re hitting like a girl.”, he laughs and starts to tickle Bastian. “Girl, girl, Basti is a girl…”

Basti twists and turns underneath Lukas and tries to escape but he has no chance. Lukas starts to tickle him and the attacks make it impossible for Bastian to concentrate for a second longer, because _oh jeez_ Poldi has reached that one spot that only him and Dani know of, the one that tickles the most, between the rips, and _oh God_ he can’t take it for much longer. He’s already out of breath from all the laughing and winding around, and Lukas laughs and asks, “You’re giving up?” 

“Never!”, Bastian presses out and tries to hit Lukas between his legs with his knee, which he of course fails to do.

Instead Lukas grabs Basti’s wrists and pins him down with his own hands, then he sits down on Basti’s stomach, which reminds Bastian of the pizza he just ate, and which just makes its presence felt. 

“Shit, you’re heavy, man.”, he pants and desperately tries to catch air after Lukas finally stopped tickling him. “Old fatso.” 

Lukas pouts and plays the offended one. “Not everyone can have a chicken breast like you.” He laughs as Bastian tries to hit him. “Gotcha Schweini, haha, whatcha gonna do now, huh?” 

His eyes are flashing and he beams as cockily as ever, and for a moment Basti pauses to enjoy the view. It’s nice that they’re always able to fool around like this, no matter what has happened before. 

“Dude, Schweini, I know I’m hot as fuck, but that doesn’t mean you can look at me like this.” 

Bastian pulls himself together. “I just thought how stupid you look when you have mushrooms in your hair.” It’s actually true because somehow the mushrooms from Basti’s pizza must have found their way into Poldi’s hair, which, in fact, makes him look stupid. Bastian grins broadly. “And hot as fuck my ass. You’re looking like a porn star, nothing more.” 

Poldi bends his head and shakes it violently, so that it rains mushrooms onto Bastian’s stomach. Lukas is still pinning him down so that he can barely move. 

“You simply notice that you’re badly educated, Schweini. If I was a porn star, I’d do this”, and he begins to move his hips in circles and moans at the top of his voice. “Oh baby, yes, exactly like this, yeah, deeper, _ohhhh,_ awesome.” At that he pulls faces, he must think that they’re looking erotically, and Bastian bursts out laughing, because Poldi simply looks unbelievably silly. 

But it’s too good to not play along, so he moves his hips as well and looks at Lukas through half closed eyes, and licks over his lips with his tongue. “Oh, Poldi, give it to me, yeah, exactly there, _ohhhh_ yes, hot!”

Also Lukas is laughing by now, Bastian feels how his body is vibrating from all the suppressed laughter, but Lukas seems to be unwilling to already interrupt their game, because when he gives up, he loses. So he leans forward and bites Bastian’s earlobe, and not tenderly at all. 

“Ah! Are you crazy?” Bastian gasps, but still tries to keep his ‘erotic’ voice. “Seems you’re into pain, huh?” he whispers in Lukas’ ear and licks along the junction between his neck and collarbone, which leads Lukas to moan suddenly. Bastian gloats over the fact that he obviously drew an unwanted reaction from Lukas. “Loser!” he whispers into his ear and bites back, not really tenderly either.

“Look at them”, someone says from the door, and both pause their game for a moment. Dani and Moni are standing there, the incarnating uncomprehending head-shaking, looking down on them. 

“When you’re seeing this you could think that the Bild is actually right.”, Dani says, and Moni laughs and says, “I have my camera somewhere here I think. I’ll just make a picture and sell it, I’ll be stinking rich and I can finally break up with this idiot over there. Keeps cheating on me anyways, even in our own house. And then we two will bolt away together, what do you think?” She looks at Dani questioningly and Dani nods slowly. 

“Sounds like a fantastic idea”, she says. “Those two really don’t seem to need us.” 

Bastian and Lukas are still lying on the floor, tangled, single bunch of limbs, and they’re laughing, as if they’re insane, about the situation, about the suggestions of their girlfriends, about themselves. 

Bastian presses his face onto Lukas’ shoulder and cries tears of laughter. “Oh Jesus, I think I’m slowly going crazy.”, he says, which leads Lukas to laugh even more.

“I’m saying this for years Basti, but you never listen to me.” 

Bastian hits him and Lukas sits up slightly and grins at him. “Girl”, he says and quickly jumps up before Bastian can get his revenge. He goes up to Moni and lifts her a little bit from the ground, presses a kiss on her mouth and puts her down again. “I could never cheat on you, Schnuckel.*” 

Bastian snorts. “ _Schnuckel?_ To be honest, Moni, that would be a reason to break up for me.”

Lukas looks at him offendedly. “Well, good that you’re not my boyfriend.” 

“Same thought.”

Before they can start to fight again, the women intervene. “How about we all calm down again and sit down to do for what we’re actually here?” Moni looks at them with a look that allows no protest and they all sit down at the small, round table again. 

Bastian is thankful for the small interlude with Poldi they just had, because it freed his mind a bit, and he still has this good feeling in his stomach, that he always has, when he’s laughed for long enough. 

“Someone has any suggestions for a strategy on how we wanna proceed?” Dani asks into the round. “Ignoring, denying, emigrating?” 

Poldi grins slightly for himself. “I will definitely not let myself get down, you won’t either, right Schweini?” 

“Never!”

“Exactly. So I thought why not give them something real to talk about? I mean, what can still happen to us? We’ve already lost all credit with Bayern anyways. Jogi won’t kick us out of the national team, I know this. So - I just have no desire to deny everything for a thousand times and still get dissed. And they won’t believe us anyways.”

Bastian nods at Lukas agreeingly. “Sounds nice, I think. Why not beat them with their own weapons? Would be way too stupid to deny everything and stuff. I’d find it way more awesome if we just did our own thing-” 

“Word, Schweini!” Poldi interrupts and gives him a thumbs up. 

“So, we’ll do the opposite of what everyone’s expecting”, Bastian continues. “Everyone thinks we’re devastated. So what’re we gonna do? We’re showing them that we don’t need them. That’s logical. Now more than ever. And if I had to kiss that one over there, that’s worth it. And then you’ll see who’re the real fans and who you can confidently get rid off. Because those, who’re actually football fans, those don’t care if you’re gay or straight, if you’re black or white or what do I know, as long as you can play football.” 

Dani nods slowly.

Bastian looks at her. “You think this is a good idea?”

“I think it’s a stupid idea. But when did this ever stop _you_?” 

Bastian grins at her. “That’s true enough.” 

“I admittedly need to say that I don’t feel very comfortable seeing my boyfriend holding hands with someone else… but it sounds like a brilliant plan, to be honest. I’m just curious what Bild is going to say, when they’ll notice, that their hate campaign doesn’t quite work out as planned.”

Moni nods as well. “I see it like this, too, but you mustn’t overdo it either.” 

Bastian looks at her, enraged. “If you think I'd kiss your Poldi voluntarily, then you’re a bit bonkers.” 

Poldi wiggles his eyebrows meaningfully and strokes himself over the nipples with his fingers.

Basti shakes his head grinningly. “Jeez, you’re so disgusting, Poldi, it really can’t get worse.” 

“But what if everything goes wrong?” Dani now says quietly. “I mean, good, you have your plan, no question. And you’re sure that it works. But what’re you gonna do if you make everything worse? And Jogi can’t do anything but kick you out? What then? No football anymore? You can’t tell me that, Basti, that you could do that.” 

For a moment there’s silence, only interrupted through the quiet tick of the clock on the wall. Bastian tries to imagine a life without football, without Bayern, without the national team, without his teammates, without matches, without yellow cards and free kicks and goals. He fails miserably. For a moment he feels like as if there was a giant black hole inside of him, sucking up every bit of happiness. He can’t do that. He can’t live without football, and everyone knows that.

It’s true, what Dani says; everyone knows he can’t do that, and they have him with that, same with Poldi. They can wear them down, until they’re on the ground, to then still trample on them until they’re crumbling away as little muck heaps, which no one talks about anymore. No, he can’t do that. He instinctively shakes his head slightly. Maybe they shouldn’t do it.

But then he looks up and sees Poldi, and in his eyes there, flames, a steeliness which makes Bastian ashamed. Lukas’ whole face is hell-bent, ready to fight. And they are. 

Again he looks at his best friend and in his face he reads nothing but unconquerable will, and a strength, which he has never seen before at him. Bastian is amazed and ashamed about himself. Of course, Poldi is right. They won’t just give up like this now, they’ll hold their grounds. 

Who gives up, loses.

They’re still the dream team, Poldi and him. Nobody can do anything as long as they just have each other. What doesn’t kill them makes them strong. For a moment he interlocks his look with Poldi’s, then he’s looking at Dani again.

“It won’t go wrong”, he says, and he believes it.


	6. In which a father is once right too

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Well, however, son. It’s super easy. The higher you fly, the farther you fall. And you flew damn high, my little high flyer. But who says that the Crap-Bayern can forbid you playing football? No, no. So don’t you dare to let yourself get down, you hear me? Don’t let yourself get down.”
> 
> Bastian smiles. “A Schweinsteiger doesn’t let himself get down.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again to my potato head [Anjum](http://thousands-of-splendid-suns.tumblr.com/) for proofreading and correcting this chapter as well :*
> 
> Bastian and his father are actually talking in Bavarian, it's sad that you can't keep such details when translating, but just imagine they still do. 
> 
> Servus Papa = Hello/Bye dad (obv)  
> Baschdl = Basti  
> Translation for the conversation between Lukas and Monika at the end of the chapter 
> 
> Hope you enjoy that chapter, comments are as always very welcome, they motivate me :) x

_What is Bayern doing without Schweinski?  
Before the game against HSV Hitzfeld, the team is forced to rotate_

_After the suspension of the two World Cup Heroes Bastian Schweinsteiger (22) and Lukas Podolski (21) FC Bayern has to compete on Saturday without two important regular players. The two youngsters, who haven’t commented on the affair yet and thus keep inflaming the rumour mill, are likely to be absent for longer, possibly until the end of the season._

_Coach Ottmar Hitzfeld, who already struggles with injury problems anyways, is now forced to rotate. “This is of course unfortunate. But we have enough good players, who can now take their chance.”, says the successful coach to **Bild.**_

_The two gay youngsters got suspended on Wednesday by the management of FC Bayern München to “first of all calm the situation” again, as manager Uli Hoeneß said._

_Seems like some players don’t want to shower with their back towards the wall._

-

Waking up the next morning is weird; Daniela let him sleep and is already gone. Usually they used to go to work at the same time, more or less, sometimes he even left the house earlier than her. And suddenly he’s - yes, he’s unemployed. It sounds terrible, this word.

Unemployed.

But it’s still true. He has no job, and not only that; they've taken his purpose in life. Bastian can barely think of a time in his life, where he didn’t play football every day.

Not one of his Bayern teammates has contacted him yet, not even a text message. It somewhat hits him. By now they must all know what has happened to Lukas and him, their absence at training will hardly likely kept being unnoticed. Of course the competition is huge, and some will secretly be happy since two regular spaces became free unexpectedly. Still, it’s sad to be dropped this quickly. 

Bastian stares at the white ceiling of their bedroom, and forces himself to ban all negative thoughts. He doesn’t recognize himself anymore. He has never seen the negative sides in a situation; only the positive. Nothing is this bad that you can’t notice something good in it. _Pull yourself together_ , he reminds himself.

The boys from Bayern will have their reasons, why they haven’t contacted him yet. Maybe Hitzfeld did an extra training session yesterday because he wasn’t satisfied. Or they had a team meeting until late night. Or their girlfriends had the attention of them all, and they had a hot night, and naturally, there was no space in their heads to think about two supposed gay teammates. Or, or, or. Bastian can think of a thousand reasons why his phone is still silent. Who knows, what’s true.

Maybe no one actually wanted to search for the important words, or enquire about how he feels. Or Poldi. Maybe some just don’t care. Maybe they’re happy, that he’s gone.

Bastian sighs and shakes his head and his depressive thoughts. There will be a logical explanation for this. And even if not. His best friends aren’t at Bayern. And the boys at Bayern really don’t matter at the end, even though they’re all nice guys. Bastian keeps staring at the ceiling for a while, and speculates and ponders, before he decides that it’s pointless anyways to think about it, and with that he’s as far as he already was at the beginning. 

Eventually he rolls onto his stomach and fumbles after his phone on his bed stand. First of all, calling dad. He procrastinated calling his parents for way too long; he knows that they’re awaiting his call eagerly and want to talk to him. 

After the second ring his father answers. “Sport Schweinsteiger, hello?”

“Servus, Papa.”

“Basti! Finally.” Bastian hears his father sighing in relief, and he feels guilty that he hasn’t called earlier.

“Busy morning in the shop?”

“The people are buying the “Schweini”-shirts like crazy, you won’t believe it.” Bastian hears the broad grin of his father. “So it doesn’t seem to harm you all too badly.” 

“Listen dad, that’s what I wanted to talk about with you.”

“No problem, son. It’s too bad, Daniela is a really nice girl. But ya know… when she doesn’t make you happy anymore… I’ll get a son in law, no daughter in law. I’m okay with that.” Even though Bastian’s father makes a real effort, Bastian does hear that it isn’t easy for him.

Of course he isn’t fine with his son being gay. His son, of all people, who is already the topic of conversation in the village anyways. Bastian doesn’t even want to imagine, how his parents must get looked at in the village, how much it gets talked behind their backs.

It’s almost breaking his heart when he thinks about how many have to suffer who’re close to him. And all just because _Bild_ is only writing bullshit again. 

“Basti, you still there?”, the voice of his father pulls him out of his thoughts.

“Yeah, of course. Just thought a little.” 

“Ah, stop it, since when do you think.”

Bastian grins as he hears the dry tone of his father. It does him good that their conversations are still like they used to be. “It’s in the family, the thoughtfulness.”, he says. “Naah, but seriously. I’m not gay. Neither am I in love with Poldi, it’s a gigantic nonsense. _Bild_ , ya know? I really like that you wanna have my back and that you don’t wanna make me feel guilty. But I do know that you’re not completely telling the truth. But that’s okay, too. I’m still together with Dani and we’re happy and all that. Everything’s normal.”

“So we don’t need to paint your room pink? Too bad, I already bought the paint.”

“You can paint Tobi’s, he’ll be happy ‘bout it.”

His father bursts out laughing. “I’m gonna do that. He’ll be in for a surprise, when he sees that.” For a moment he still laughs, then he gets serious again. “Now listen to your old father, son. I already read today that they kicked you out. But I didn’t expect differently from this dumb club.”

Bastian rolls his eyes. He knew that a comment like this would come. His father can never bite it back. Even though he’s endlessly proud, that Bastian found a job at Bayern, and even though he’s a fan of the club himself, he just can’t stand the management. He always suspects them of plotting against the wellbeing of his son. When the going gets tough, he’s always on the side of FC Schweinsteiger. 

“Well, however, son. It’s super easy. The higher you fly, the farther you fall. And you flew damn high, my little high flyer. But who says that the Crap-Bayern can forbid you playing football? No, no. So don’t you dare to let yourself get down, you hear me? Don’t let yourself get down.”

Bastian smiles. “A Schweinsteiger doesn’t let himself get down.” 

“Exactly, son. Exactly! That’s what I wanna hear. So, hear me. Take a break for a day or so. Joke around, play with the box-”

“Playstation, dad.” 

“That’s what I said. So do that. And then you’ll go kick a ball with Poldi. You can come here, they’ll let you on the pitch for sure. Just don’t stop playing. Play a bit, play with the boys over here, they’ll be happy. You hear me?”

“Yeah, dad. Sounds good, I have to say. Even though it’s your idea.”

“Don’t get rude, Spezi.*”

Before Bastian can go one better, his father swears into the phone quietly. “Bloody hell, someone’s coming. So bear that in mind, Basti, do something out of the crisis. You can do that, I know that. If someone can come out of such scandal normally, then it’s you. Take the chance. Your mother and me, we’re having your back, you hear me? Even if you’re gay. Sod that! You’re still our Baschdl*. And now go!” 

“Servus, Papa.”

His father hangs up, and Basti keeps staring at the phone for a moment. Then he laughs. He’s glad that he called his father. He manages it every time to play down every so damn flaming situation, and gives Bastian the feeling as if it was all not that bad at all. 

And as much as he’s an ultra-catholic, out and out bavarian, he’s most of all a father with heart and soul. And for his children he would cheer for a Prussian club and welcome gay sons in law into his family, and if the neighbours look badly at him for that, he doesn’t care, because with his family, he knows what he’s getting. 

_The higher you fly, the farther you fall._ Again his father put it straight. And, damn it, of course Bastian and Lukas are in a power dive, straight down. But who says, that it must continue like this? Who says, that they’ll hit the ground and burst? Who says, that they won’t find the ripcord just in time, flying up on an upwind again? Bastian clenches his fist. And they _will_ fly to the very top again. They will rise, higher than ever, he just knows it, and he will do everything, everything to achieve that. 

And now he will call Poldi, because this old fart is probably still in bed as well, and it’s about time to wake him up. A new day is waiting for them, and it only waits for them to capture it.

-

Racily, Bastian drives up the driveway to Poldi’s house and turns off the engine. Cheerfully he gets out of the car and looks around. The sky is gloriously blue, the sun is burning from the sky, and finally it’s warm enough again for shorts. The garden in front of the house looks quite wild, Bastian notices with a grin. Now that the plants all grow and bloom, it gets completely noticeable. Seems like someone was too lazy to do the gardening.

Whistling happily he goes up the few steps towards the front door and rings the bell. Then he takes a step back and waits, the hands in the pockets of his shorts. It takes a while, then Monika opens the door. 

“Moni!” Bastian says surprisedly and greets her with a kiss on the cheek. “What are you doing here?” She's only wearing a bikini top and a wrap skirt, and Bastian notices with admiration, that Lukas made a really good catch.

“I have a day off.”, she answers and grins broadly. “You interrupted my sunbath. Gotta make the most out of this good weather, huh? And what are you doing here? Lukas is still sleeping.” 

“What? This old fart.” Bastian shakes his head. “I called him earlier and said I’m going to come over. He said he’ll get ready.”

“Well, then he fell back asleep again, knowing him. Awful with him, such an old sleepyhead. Completely out of it, I tell you.”, Moni says, shaking her head, but her loving smile contradicts her harsh words. 

“Just come in, wake him up, it’s late enough. Go and find him?” Bastian nods and she lets him in. “You know where to find me.” She grins at him and walks in the direction of the porch where Bastian can see a deckchair. 

Quickly he runs up the stairs to the first floor, into the bedroom. He actually wants to violently rip the door open, but at the last moment he changes his mind.

Quietly he sneaks into the room and obeys Poldi, who lies on the back, occupying the whole bed for himself, putting his feet up. He kicked the blanket away from himself, and Bastian can’t help but grin as he sees the little bulge in Lukas’ pants. What might he be dreaming of again?

“Ts, ts, ts”, Bastian makes, and sneaks towards the head of the bed. Carefully he bends over his best friend, and with a diabolic grin he licks him over one nipple once. 

Lukas moans quietly, but doesn’t wake up. Bastian watches the bulge getting slightly bigger, and licks once again. He repeats it for a few times, until Lukas does wake up eventually.

He moans again quietly, and stretches automatically, then his eyes open with a dozy smile. “Hmmm”, he makes, pleased, and purrs like a cat.

Then he sees Bastian and wakes up abruptly. “Schweini!”

Bastian just grins. “Was it good?” 

Lukas’ sleep driven brain needs a while, but then he gets scarlet red and sits up. “Dude! That was you?”

“Sure! Already had a boner, was just too tempting to resist.” 

Poldi moans again, but this time because of sheer shame, and buries his head into the pillow. “Schweini, dude”, he says, his voice muffled from the pillow. “You’re such an asshole.”

“You don’t need to be embarrassed.”, Basti says. “I can understand that you liked that. I’m quite good at this, ask Dani.” 

Poldi looks at him again and is, if that is even possible, even redder than before. “Ugh, just leave me alone, dude”, he rants. “What’re ya even doin’ here?” 

“Dude, don’t say you already forgot. I called you earlier, remember? I wanted to pick you up, you said you’re getting ready.” 

“Oh god, you’re killing me.” 

“Come on, don’t plead tiredness as an excuse!” Bastian starts to poke Lukas’ side with his finger, until he finally gets up, loudly grumping. Bastian grins satisfiedly. He loves when things go his way.

It doesn’t take too long for Lukas to get ready, which leads Basti to make countless mocking comments about the ‘catlick’, at which Lukas’ returns the favour with shameless comments about men that are too vain. As they walk down the stairs next to each other, they laugh.

They’re involved in a silent competition, which includes pushing the other down the stairs, as subtle as possible, when Moni enters the house again. “What the hell are you doing?”, she asks, half amused, half desperate, and Lukas looks up. 

Bastian takes his chance. Unfortunately it’s only a few steps left till the ground, but Lukas still falls, in an almost perfect flying roll, down. Bastian bursts out laughing, Moni walks up to Lukas worryingly. As soon as she got sure that he’s okay she looks at Bastian, shaking her head. “What was that for?”

Bastian shrugs slightly. “For him being an idiot? He simply deserved it.” He grins and adds, “Don’t make that face, Poldi, you would have done the same to me. Don’t pretend to be innocent.” 

Lukas pouts, and Moni laughs and gives him a kiss. He presses himself onto her and buries his nose into her hair for a moment. Then he breaks away again and looks at her with big eyes. “Bardzo chciałbym zostać, ale ten głupek zmusi mnie, żebym z nim wyszedł…”

Monika looks at him with raised eyebrows and smiles slightly. “Moje biedactwo… Nie zasługujesz na takie traktowanie.” 

And there it is again, Lukas’ bottom lip. He pouts again, or at least he pretends to. 

Bastian looks between the both of them, slightly confused. They do that often, just talk in Polish, so no one knows what they’re talking about. It drives Bastian crazy. He hates when he doesn’t know what’s happening.

And Poldi knows that very well. He only does it to tease him; revenge for Basti’s move earlier.

“Mówiłabyś inaczej, gdybyś wiedziała co mogę z tobą zrobić, gdybym tu został”, Lukas says quietly and looks at Monika with a look, orientated at the south part of her face and which can mean only one thing. And when Bastian thinks about the bulge in his pants before, then it’s clear to him, that Lukas is actually making obvious offers here.

“Ach tak?”, Moni replies, laughs, and bumps her hips against his. Bastian notices, that Lukas’ hand is resting on the thin fabric covering her bottom. If they were alone, it would probably not take long before Moni had no fabric on her bottom anymore at all. 

And _about that_ he actually doesn’t want to think at all. There are more enjoyable pastimes than imagining his best friend during sex. For example the thing Bastian came here for. It slowly goes too far for him, how Moni and Lukas are looking at each other, completely ignoring Bastian.

“Hey, you lovebirds. Stop with the flirting. I don’t even wanna know what you just talked about, it’s bad enough to just watch you… Poldi, dude, come on, we wanna go.” 

Lukas looks at Moni regretfully and bites his bottom lip. “Kocham cię.” 

Bastian is about to get annoyed. Now they’re starting with the Polish-wittering again. 

Luckily Moni looks at Lukas seductively for one last time, says “Wiem o tym”, winks, and turns around. Both boys look after her for a short while as she walks away. She clearly wiggles her hips more than she usually does, and Basti pulls at Lukas’ shirt. “Dude, can you break away now please? Come on, we wanna drive.” 

“Jealous, hm?” Lukas looks at him and grins. “Don’t get as much fun at home as I do, huh? Don’t be mad at Dani because of this. Not everyone can have such a libido like my Moni.” With that he slips over his shoulder strap of his sports bag and walks towards the front door. 

Bastian sighs loudly. If it continues like this, the day can only go wrong. “Can you even pronounce it, huh? Libido… What a foreign word, and that out of your mouth. And all that this early in the morning as well.”

Poldi pulls the front door open and blinks as the bright sunlight blends him. “Woah, how funny you are, Schweini, really. Seems you had a clown at breakfast.” 

Bastian grins. One nil to him; Poldi is annoyed. He has the upper hand again, and that makes him happier immediately. He loves to be predominant, no matter if in football or in their little tiffs. 

“Of course”, he says as he walks up to his car next to Lukas. “And guess what it tasted like.” He does a dramatic pause, opens the trunk for Lukas, and then says, “Well, funny of course.” 

Lukas groans and closes the trunk maybe a bit too fiercely than necessary. “Schweini, seriously… turn off the bad-pun-mode again.” Bastian laughs and starts the car, even before Lukas can sit down properly. With squealing tyres he drives towards the sunshine. 

\--

 **Translation:** Conversation between Monika and Lukas

 **Lukas:** I’d love to stay with you, honey, but this idiot here forces me to come with him  
**Moni:** You poor guy… I am sure you deserve everything he does to you.  
**Lukas:** You wouldn’t say that if you knew what I’d do to you if I stayed  
**Moni:** Oh, is that so?

And later:

 **Lukas:** I love you  
**Moni:** I know


	7. In which our heroes take a bath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Lukas is looking unbelievably sad, and Bastian starts to notice a protective instinct, which he usually doesn’t know, after all he has always been the little brother that had to be protected. But this here next to him is his best friend, and he doesn’t feel well, and Bastian wants to help."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to my wife Anjum Panjum for proofreading x 
> 
>  
> 
> Ammersee is a big, beautiful lake in Bayern  
> Herrsching is the town's name 
> 
> Enjoy, and leave comments as always x

Bastian knows that he isn’t a good driver. He gets impatient easily, he drives way too fast, and he insults other drivers as soon as they don’t drive as he’d like them to.

But that’s still no reason for Lukas to hold onto the door handle that tightly. “Poldi, really, I thought you have already been in some rally race car, so don’t be like that.”

“But he knew what he did.”

Bastian honks and groans annoyedly as the car in front of him slows down to 30 to then slowly turn right. “Well then _carry_ it around the corner, for fucks sake.” He steps on the gas. “I know what I’m doing, too.”, he says. “And now stop buggin’ me.”

“Speaking of ‘doing’”, Poldi says. “What exactly is your plan? Abducting me outta my own house and I still don’t know what we’re actually doing.”

Basti grins at him, and doesn’t look onto the road for long enough to cause Lukas to turn white. The grin gets wider. “Training, cutie. What did ya think? That you’re in paradise now? Surely not.”

“Training”, Lukas repeats slowly and shakes his head. “Basti, you’re _nuts_! Firstly. You’re driving towards Ammersee, there won’t be a Säbener Straße for sure. Secondly, I thought we agreed on the fact that we don’t give two shits about Bayern right now.”

“Who’s talking ‘bout Bayern? Since when do you need more than a ball and a football ground for training?”

Lukas stares at him and Bastian internally gloats over this unbelieving look. “You’re not serious, are you, Schweini?”

“What?”

“Don’t tell me that we’re not just driving to some dump, to some football ground to train there.”

Bastian turns left a little too fast, and both get pressed into their seats. Bastian shifts up to the fourth gear. “That’s exactly what we’re doin’.”

 

Lukas lets his head fall back against the headrest. “You’re actually outta your mind.” He’s about to get really annoyed, Bastian notices. And that’s rare enough with Lukas, who usually doesn’t put up with this much without whining.

Bastian lays a hand on his thigh and squeezes softly. “Listen, Poldi. If you don’t want to, we don’t have to do this. It was the idea of my dad, I thought it was actually a cool one. We have to train, you know that as much as I do. We have to be good. Damn, we have to be the best. The goddamn _best_ players in this godforsaken country. We have to show them all, and we _will_ show them all. We can also train in your garden or something, the space is there. I don’t care. But my dad said, and I think he’s right with that, that it doesn’t harm to go out a bit, to the people. You know how it is. Everyday the boys come to the football ground to play and train.”

“And we should talk with those who do”, Lukas says quietly and looks out of the window.

For a while neither of them says anything, only 50 Cent drones out of the loudspeakers. “Persuading them, or what?” Lukas says eventually. “Walking up to the boys and be like, listen to us. We’re no bad footballers, only because we’re gay.”

 

“We’re gay?” Bastian looks at him surprisedly. “Did I miss something?”

Lukas’ cheeks redden slightly and he grins somewhat shily. “Idiot. I mean like, we’re not gay, but even if we were, it wouldn’t matter. We can try it.”

Bastian says nothing and just continues driving silently, past the Herrsching place-name sign through the streets of the small place. He asks himself what’s up with Lukas. Something is niggling him, and he’s bottling it up. At least he hasn't spoken about it with Bastian. If there was nothing, there is no way he would have reacted this shily towards Basti’s joke. He would have replied with some dumb comment, they would have fooled around, laughed, and the issue would have been over.

Bastian decides to talk to Poldi about it sometime later. A sneaking look to the side confirms him that Lukas looks more thoughtful than usual. Silently, he sits there and stares out of the window, hands folded in his lap. Right now he’s biting his bottom lip, and then he sucks the lip into his mouth.

He’s looking unbelievably sad, and Bastian starts to notice a protective instinct, which he usually doesn’t know, after all he has always been the little brother that had to be protected. But this here next to him is his best friend, and he doesn’t feel well, and Bastian wants to help.

 

Now he drives to the roadside and stops the car. “Final stop, all out!” He smiles at Poldi and pokes him slightly. “Come on, let’s see what you’ve got!”

Poldi, for a moment, finds back to his old self, or at least covers his bad mood, and grins back, a little too cheeky for Bastian’s liking. “I’m gonna wear you out, you ol’ fart.”

Bastian laughs. “Don’t talk too big, you’re still gonna have to eat dirt later.”

“In your dreams, Schweini, in your dreams.”

 

The old football ground in Herrsching is directly next to the Ammersee, and Bastian takes a moment, looking over the water where a few sailing boats slide slowly. Hopefully he can even concentrate properly with such a view. Lukas speaks out his thoughts when he says, “Dude, Bergheim really is crap compared to this panorama.”

“Dude, what’s up”, Bastian says. “Libido, panorama… If it continues like this I’ll start to get worried ‘bout you. Slept with a dictionary under your pillow, huh?”

“Oh, shut up.”, Poldi says and grins with a sweet temper. “You’ll soon be laughing on the other side of your face, just wait for it, I’ll show you.”

Bastian looks around. The green of the pitch is cluttered with brown spots all over where the dirt is coming out. Around the pitch there are wooden benches, as if this was a park. Bastian can literally imagine the worried mothers sitting there, swapping knitting patterns, while their sons are kicking the ball a bit.

Of course they can’t do proper training here, not like with Bayern, with countless equipments and all the adjuncts. They don’t even have cones here. Still, for a few laps and pass training it’s enough. And they don’t even need much more for the moment anyway.

They will practise shots on goal and passes until they can do it in their sleep; together over the pitch, passing blindly, so it’ll get awesome goals. Poldi doesn’t know about his luck yet, but Bastian is bound and determined. He set his mind in scoring goals together in the next international match with Poldi.

Italy.

He sighs slightly. Especially against Italy they have to win, and they will win. And Lukas and him will score the goals, he swears himself. Jogi will put them in the lineup; he knows that; he has no other choice. Both, Lukas and him are way too fit at the moment.

“So whatcha think”, he says and sits down next to Poldi on one of the old wooden benches to put on his football shoes, “first, warming up a bit?”

 

And so it comes that they’re both trotting next to each other peacefully, silently, always around the pitch. They’re saying nothing; at the moment they don’t need any words, it’s quite comfortable keeping silent with Poldi, too.

It continues with stretching exercises, during which they usually laughed about Scholli’s boney butt and Pizza’s obviously shaved legs or fooled around with Andi and Roque. Just now they’re getting aware again, that they’re actually ‘suspended’, that they’re not part of the team anymore and can only watch their teammates over the TV.

 

Just now they’re standing next to each other in a straddle, the head as close as possible to the ground, when they’re looking up at the same time and at each other. Bastian sees the look on Poldi’s face and nods. “Same here.” Then he shakes his head to shake the thought, and straightens himself again. “‘nd now?”

He looks around undecidedly. That’s not how far he’s planned. His plan consisted of getting Poldi and driving with him to a football ground. Which worked this far. But Bastian has never had to think of a work out plan himself; he just took part. And in the past, when he hasn’t been at a club yet, it was more kicking the ball around than actual training, this used to be way easier. When you have six people it’s easy to form two teams and just start playing. But two by two it doesn’t exactly make sense.

“Do ya even have a ball?” Lukas looks around, searching. “Can’t see one.”

“Ah, shit, right. It’s in the car.” Bastian jogs back to the car and opens the trunk. The ball must be somewhere here, he knows it, he did put it in. And the trunk is definitely not big enough for something to get lost in there. Ah, there’s the bag. The ball must be in there. Bastian grabs the bag and goes back to Lukas, who’s standing on the middle of the pitch, and who looks a little bit lost. Lukas, idly, on a football ground; this just doesn’t fit. _Well, that can be changed,_ Bastian thinks, grins to himself and opens the bag.

 

Taking out the ball, dropping the bag, and starting to run with the ball on his foot is one single movement. Before Poldi can even realise what’s going on, Basti is already past him and scores a goal. “Didn’t I say it?” he shouts and gets the ball out of the net. “You’ll eat dirt, little boy.”

“Keep dreaming, mate.”, Lukas says and looks like as if he didn’t quite know if he should play the offended one or if he should grin. “Just because you’re playing unfair, doesn’t mean, you’re better. Cause you aren’t.”

“You just can’t admit it”, Basti counters and juggles with the ball, willing to keep it in the air as long as possible. Left foot, right foot, knee, left foot, oops, that was a bit too much, but just catched in time, right foot, head - “Hey! You’re nuts or what?”

Lukas just stole the ball, picked out of the air, just when Basti wanted to pick it up it again. Lukas laughs. “You’re just too slow for me.” Now it’s Lukas who runs up and away, past Basti, towards the opposite goal. Basti, of course, starts sprinting immediately, but Lukas has the lead, and Basti just isn’t Odo. Lukas swats the ball into the empty goal and throws his arms up to cheer, as if this was the Champions League, and not Herrsching.

Bastian runs towards him and plants himself in front of Lukas. “Just you wait, little dirtsack.”, he says grimly. “You’re not tricking me again.”

Lukas tilts his head and squints his eyes, until it looks like little slits, out of which it flashes enterprisingly. “You wanna bet?”

Bastian raises his brow. He won’t miss such a challenge of course. And he’ll be able to stop Poldi. “The loser will take a bath in the Ammersee.”

“You’re crazy? It’s flippin’ cold!”

Bastian grins. “You seem to believe in your loss already, otherwise you wouldn’t think about this.”

Lukas laughs, and presses his hands into his hips. “Was just worried ‘bout your health, dude. Ya know, the bones. Might cause trouble with your age.”

Bastian doesn’t dignify him with an answer, but just looks at Lukas arrogantly. He’ll soon be laughing on the other side of his face.

 

They must look funny, Bastian thinks, standing in front of each other, both awaiting, ready to react immediately. If they now had a colt as well, they could take part in a western movie. The pitch is definitely muddy enough for such a dramatic scene.

Just when Basti amuses himself thinking about that image, Lukas suddenly plays the ball on the left and passes Bastian by on the right. Bastian curses himself internally and whips around. He runs two, three, quick steps, then he throws himself, following a spontaneous suggestion, forwards, and grabs Lukas’ thigh. With both hands he clings to Poldi’s leg and drags him to the ground, almost pulling off his shorts. As Lukas lies on the ground, Bastian quickly bobs up, kicking the ball with the tip of his shoe while standing up, running towards “his” goal.

Lukas cusses in Polish, and Bastian is glad he can’t understand it, and runs after Bastian. Bastian just wants to push the ball over the line when he feels a weight on his back, pulling him backwards. Lukas wrapped one arm around his neck, and for a moment Bastian can’t breathe. He gasps, but still tries to free himself and get the ball into the goal at the same time. But Lukas gives him no chance, but pulls him back to him, away from the goal, and wraps his feet around Bastian’s legs.

Bastian tries to wrestle himself out of the clasp, and hits his elbow into Lukas’ side, which he doesn’t seem to care about, because he can’t be bothered pinning Bastian down on the ground with two hands. “Pol - di -”, Bastian pants, “Ass -”

Lukas laughs and sticks out his tongue - how old are they again? - and presses Basti down tightly once again, before he gets up with lighting speed, fishing after the ball with one foot. But Bastian can react quickly enough, grabs as much dirt with one hand as possible, and stuffs it into Poldi’s shirt and pants, as good as he can. Lukas squeaks appalled and grabs his back with both hands, where he suddenly feels a lump of wet dirt. “Schweini!”

Basti laughs triumphantly and throws himself with all his weight onto his best friend, so that he crashes back on the ground from his four-feet-position, Bastian almost completely on top of him.

“Give up”, Bastian says, close to Lukas’ ear. “You’re losing anyways.” Then he gets an idea, and he shifts his weight slightly so that he has one hand free to grab some more dirt with it. “Didn’t I say it?” He can’t quite keep the triumphant tone out of his voice. “You’ll eat dirt.”

Lukas looks as if he would love to respond, but Bastian’s hand is dangerously close to his mouth, and so he limits it to pressing his lips together tightly and pulling away his head as far as he can. Basti laughs and smears the dirt through his face. Lukas can’t fight back, because he lies on one of his arms, the other one has Basti.

Lukas spits out.

“Ohhhh, poor little Luki”, Bastian makes. “Does he have dirt in his mouth?”

“You’re so sick.”, Lukas says. “And don’t call me _Luki._ ”

“Why not? It’s cute, little Luki.”, Bastian flutes and grins from ear to ear, as he notices Lukas taking a deep breath to stay calm. “Does sound really cute, somehow.”

“I’m _not_ cute.”, Lukas says vehemently. “And now get off me.”

Bastian presses a loud kiss onto his neck, right on the hairline, where Lukas has countless of tiny, fine, blond, little hairs, which look like the ones of a toddler. “Secretly, you want it, too.” Then he rolls off Lukas, not without accidentally hitting him with his elbow again, and stands up. Triumphantly, he holds up thumb and second finger in front of his forehead and forms an L. “Come on, loser, get up.” He grins and offers Lukas’ his hand, which he ignores and stands up without any help.

 

With a death-look he looks at Bastian. “Oh you wait”, he growls. “Next time it’s my turn.”

“Sure. And, you’re excited for the lake?”

Lukas shakes his head and starts grinning in turn. “I wouldn’t be so sure of it, Basti. Look where the ball is.” Bastian follows Lukas’ index finger. And in fact, the ball isn’t in the goal, but lies scarcely in front of the line. It’s not in goal. Bollocks, like his father would say.

“That’s not possible.” Basti shakes his head in disbelief. “But it’s still closer to my goal, so I win.”

“Pfff, sure. Quickly changing the rules, that’s not how it works.”

“We had rules?”

“ _One_ rule”, Poldi explains, as if it was obvious. “A universal rule. Who gives up, loses. This one always counts.”

“And you clearly gave up”, Bastian responds.

“Oh yes? _You_ rolled off _me_ , not the other way round. So you gave up.”

Bastian runs both hands through his hair, realises too late that they’re still full of dirt. “Fuck” Now he’s dirty as well.

On the other hand… When he’s looking down at himself like this, this tiny bit of dirt in his hair isn’t his biggest problem. Poldi doesn’t look much better; he’s got brown spots on his shorts and shirt, especially on the back and his bottom, where Basti attacked him, and his whole face is covered in dirt. “Gosh, we’re looking like idiots”, Basti says and laughs.

 

Lukas shakes his head slightly. “Jesus, I just hope no one saw us.” He fruitlessly tries to rub away the dirt on his shirt. “Would be really awkward. Especially when I was lying on the floor, you on top of me like… That would have been _the_ headline. Sex in public, or what?”

Bastian can’t resist stepping closer, stroking his cheek with one hand. “Come on, you’re into it, aren’t ya.”, he coos and winks at Poldi seductively.

“Idiot.” With that he suddenly grabs Bastian’s hips with both of his hands and lifts him. At first he tries to give him a fireman lift, but has to admit that he is indeed too heavy for that. Instead he strengthens the pressure of his arms around Bastian’s centre of the body and pushes his organs together. As Basti notices where he’s going, he begins to fight back fiercely, which Poldi doesn’t seem to care about at all. With big steps he walks towards the lake, which is probably indeed kinda cold around that season, Basti thinks.

_Uh oh._

“Poldi, you asshole, let me down!... Lukas!... Forget it, you surely _won’t_ throw me into the lake!... Poldi!” God damn, he would have never thought that Lukas is _that_ strong. Maybe he should have looked at his arms a bit more carefully; they seem to have quite a lot of strength.

Bastian has to admit that he can’t win, and quickly changes his tactic. Lukas is now only two steps away from the lake, and Bastian switches his body around. When he can’t save himself, he at least wants to drag Lukas with him. And so he clutches at him with both hands and legs makes himself extra heavy. Lukas notices that of course and tries to free himself but Bastian has no mercy. Poldi tries to shake Bastian off and throwing him into the water, but Bastian uses the momentum Lukas gained through his movement to send them both flying into the lake.

 

The water is indeed freezing cold and feels like thousand of little needles on the skin, as Bastian notices after the first second of shock. Surprised he opens his mouth and swallows freezing lake water. Then his head already cuts through the water surface again and he spits out to get rid of the disgusting taste. Next to himself he sees Poldi, who is standing there just like him, the water reaching his hips, the shirt soaked, sticking to his body. Heck, these arms are really impressive; why did he never notice before?

Lukas looks at him head shakingly. “Can you explain to me what we’re doing now? You have fresh clothes?”

“Nah. But I’ve got a blanket in my car, we can wrap ourselves in it.”

 

Slowly, they’re going back to the waterside next to each other, where they’re firstly getting rid of their soaked shoes and socks. Fortunately, the sun has already warmed the ground, so that they can walk with bare feet towards the bench without any problems, where they have placed down their belongings.

Bastian gets the blanket out of his car, so they can towel and dry up again, at least a _bit._ It would of course be easier to drive home and change, but there is no way someone is entering Bastian’s car with wet clothes, it’s still way too new for that. Besides that, they still haven’t had any training yet, like they had actually planned. The things they already did were more wrestling than anything else.

Bastian grins slightly as he thinks about what the others would have said if they had done this at the national team. He can clearly see their faces in front of him. Micha would shake his head and rail against them, as a coach is supposed to do, while his flashing eyes would reveal him. Torsten would stand behind Micha, laughing, but looking seriously and agreeingly immediately as soon as Micha turns around. Odo and Mike would just wait for the opportunity to flick their ears, just because they had so much fun doing it. And Jogi wouldn't have caught any of it, hopefully, otherwise he would give them a talk again about how important it is to take this seriously.

 

He comes back to Lukas again, who is just stripping off his shirt, pointlessly trying to towel himself with it. “Here.” Basti throws the blanket to him and takes off his shirt as well. They probably have to keep on their shorts, when they want to avoid a complaint because of the scandal. “Oh boy, Poldi”, Basti says, drops himself onto the bench, and sighs. “The things you do.”

“ _I?_ ” Lukas looks up and stares at Bastian. “That was clearly you.”

Before the squabbling starts again, Bastian raises both his hands, peace offering. “I don’t mind. And now come here, let us dry a bit and then continue.” He knocks on the wood next to himself, laying both arms on the backrest of the bench, so preferably all his body parts are seeing the sun.

Lukas yawns heartily and lays his back on the bench so his head is lying next to Basti’s thighs. His bottom and legs beyond the bench and Basti taps him slightly. “You can lay your head on my thighs, I don’t bite. So you can at least put your ass on the bench.”

Lukas hesitates for a moment, then he does as Basti suggested. He bends his legs and seems to be quite comfortable with that, at least he closes his eyes with a little sigh.

Basti looks down at Poldi. Now he appears normal again, as always. Maybe kind of chilled, but that’s because he’s a little sissy and can’t take anything. But you can’t see any of the sadness from before anymore, which is why Basti gives up thinking about it for a moment, instead closes his eyes as well.


End file.
